


The Ideal Flatmate

by Larry_you_know



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Hate to Love, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Smut, Roommates, hopefully funny, past zarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_you_know/pseuds/Larry_you_know
Summary: Louis shares his flat with the ideal flatmate (or I-F as he often nicknames him). Harry is a bit younger and a bit taller than him. He’s polite and there is nothing to complain about. Harry rarely brings someone over, he isn’t loud, he eats at the table and when he uses the shared area for his crafting projects he always tidies after himself. Harry doesn’t bother Louis and he pays his share in time.The ideal flatmate.The only problem is: Harry hates Louis. This will be very lovely Christmas.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 36
Kudos: 325
Collections: 1D Christmas Fest 2020





	The Ideal Flatmate

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my beta [ Becky ](https://ponymom-stuff.tumblr.com) and to my cheerleading squad Bibi, Jai and Bree. And to [ Chloe ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/profile) for organising this fest and for mood board to my story.

*

“I’m honestly so tired. I’ve worked my butt off so I could go. I was really looking forward to seeing them all,” he said with his eyes closed, clenching his fingers at the nose bridge. “They don’t even count on me anymore–”

“Lou, don’t be so hard on yourself, of course they do. But you haven’t come home for Christmas for the past two years. You can’t exactly blame them for not thinking that this year it would be different.”

“I know, I know. But I wanted to surprise them. Guess they beat me to it,” he scoffed. “It doesn’t help that _‘I-F_ s decorating the flat like the Queen is coming for Christmas punch. It just makes me sadder. I’ll end up alone on Christmas sulking through the most Christmassy place in the whole country. What a mockery.”

“You can always come with me. There will be too many people at our house, one little pain in the ass will totally blend in.”

“Thanks Liam, but no… I’ll stay, maybe I could get some work done anyway and go home for a visit after holidays.”

“Did you even tell them that you made it? That all those missed birthdays and holidays got paid off and you’re now the majority owner of the gallery?”

“Of course not.”

“You wanted to surprise them?” Liam guessed.

“Shut up, you twat.” he giggled at how it rhymed. “They thought I dreamt too big and that it would never happen. Of course I want to tell them in person they were wrong all along and that I did it, despite their undying support and beliefs in me,” the irony dripped from his words.

“You’re impossible, really. I love you man, but you’re always so difficult.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just often misunderstood.”

“I understand you well enough. And I also think that we should head home before you drink some more and start feeling sorry for yourself and try to booty call _someone_ to cheer you up.” Liam got up from the bar stool and put his jacket on.

“What’s wrong with that, Li, don’t be prude.”

“Seriously, mate, grow up. It’s always the same. Fun night and then you feel like shit because he’s in the relationship– not giving a fuck.”

“Heh. Ironic.”

“Ya know what I mean, it’s eating you up that he cheats and you’re allowing him that. It’s not right. And you don’t even want him as your boyfriend, so what’s really the point in hooking up with him.”

“I’m not the one cheating. It’s on him.”

“Who are you trying to persuade? Me or you?” Liam deadpanned.

“Shit, hate that you read me like an open book. Let’s go home, yeah? Come to mine, I can show you the reindeers tea light holders that _I-F_ made out of the wire so you’ll see what I have to endure.”

“I can’t Lou. Early morning tomorrow. And don’t hate on him he’s trying to do something nice not to piss you off.”

“I’m not. I always say he’s--”

“ _I-F,_ the ideal flatmate.” they said in unison, laughing at it.

And _I-F_ really was. He thought about him the whole ride home. They’ve been sharing the flat for more than a year and a half. Louis had chosen him from over a hundred of replies to his stupid little ad he put online after Liam moved away to his girlfriend. He was overwhelmed by the response, so he grabbed the bigger part he had printed out and tossed it straight into the bin. He wouldn’t want to live with someone who didn’t have any luck in life. He then decided to meet in person with three people. One didn’t show up at all, one was horrible. Her self-deprecation sense of humour (and Louis hoped that it was meant to be funny, even if it wasn’t) was a big no-no.

The last one was Harry – a charming lad with kind eyes and infectious laugh. He was a bit younger and a bit taller than Louis (but he could live with that). He had just finished his studies in Cardiff and moved to London to become a preschool teacher. He was a bit shy as he confessed that he always wanted to live in the city, his family would rather have him closer, and he could be a teacher just anywhere but he wanted to follow his dream and try it big, even when it was a little bit too expensive to establish a new life here. And Louis, well he could relate. He once had a very similar dream to “make it” in London.

They were getting along just fine. From the start it seemed that they could become really great friends. But soon Harry started to keep his _healthy_ distance. Louis thought maybe it was because of Harry’s boyfriend, maybe he was a bit jealous or something. Louis once caught them in the middle of, well doing some pleasant stuff to each other. He was a little annoyed, because he had to get up early and they weren’t exactly quiet.

After this encounter, Harry became all polite and well, there was nothing to complain about – _the ideal flatmate_ or _I-F_ as he often nicknamed him while referring to him in his chats with Liam and other friends.

Harry rarely brought someone over when Louis was around. He probably hung out at his friends’ place a lot. He wasn’t loud and played music only in his room. He only ever ate at the table, never while sitting on the couch while watching telly like Louis. When he used the shared area for his kiddie-crafting projects he always tidied after himself.

He didn’t bother Louis. He paid his share in time. Louis liked him, it made him a bit sad that they haven’t become friends as he initially thought they would. But he respected the set boundaries.

The ideal flatmate.

But tonight, he was in the mood. A bit tipsy, a bit disappointed about his family ruining his Christmas idea, a bit angry at Liam for talking him out of his _phone-a-friend routine_. But again, Liam was right. So when he came home and saw Harry in the middle of … what the fuck was he even doing?

The fabrics were everywhere, so were corrugated papers in various colours, scissors, glues… “Hiya, Harry, and what’s all that?” he asked enthusiastically and plopped down on the chair opposite to him.

“If I were you I wouldn’t– –” Harry tried to warn him.

“Ouch, it’s sharp.” Louis hissed as he dropped the tiny little cutting knife and sucked the blood from his little cut on the finger between his lips.

“That’s what I was saying.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’m going to tidy up.”

“Don’t worry… what are you even doing? Looks interesting. When I have kids I’m going to call you all time for some crafting tips.” Harry smiled fondly at that.

“Trying out some ideas for my kids. You know, Christmas is coming and all that.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. You’ve put decorations all over the place. It’s a bit annoying, you know.” Louis said half in joke.

“Annoying?” Harry looked paralyzed. “Don’t you like Christmas?”

“I do, I do,” he giggled. “I just, you should decorate your boyfriend’s flat or something else. Because unfortunately I’ll be stuck here during holidays… and this will just remind me how stupid I’ve been and how I’m alone.”

“Well, I live here too, so– –” Harry got a bit defensive.

“But you’ll eventually fuck off away to your perfect boy or whoever… so why make it feel like Christmas in here.” Louis gestured theatrically with his hands.

“Well, I’m planning on staying. I’ll spend Christmas here. And I’m decorating. So get used to it.” Harry was in a fighting mood.

“Oh! You’re staying? I didn’t realize.” Louis was disappointed, he thought that if he wasn’t coming home, he could spend Christmas in peace, not that he would have to deal with his flatmate who he actually didn’t know that well. 

“Well, yeah, oh. Any problem? And seriously, why are you always so obnoxious. All– the– fucking– time! You’re so focussed on yourself. Do you pay any attention to others? Like ever? No wonder you’ll be alone on Christmas.”

And that hurt. What the hell was happening? His perfect flatmate didn’t like him or what? Louis just stared back at him in disbelief. Why was he suddenly so riled up? Obnoxious? Self-centred? Where was this coming from? Louis wasn’t like that, or was he? He cared deeply about others. About his family. About his friends.

“And for your information––” Harry continued as he felt his chance to finally say his opinion on Louis back to him. “We’ve broken up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Louis became all timid, no one had called him out like that in a long time. “How are you doing then?” Louis tried to be supportive.

“It was eight month ago, you jerk. Seriously. Do you see further than on top of your homophobic nose?” Harry was seeing red.

But so was Louis. Offended to the core. “What? What did you just say? Homophobic? Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“Well, I tried to bite my tongue for so long. But here it is: I hate you!”

“What? You hate me? Why? I haven’t done anything to you and I’m not a homophobe, far from it, you fucking moron.”

“Yeah, you are. I remember very vividly how you reacted when you caught me and Zayn that one time–”

“Well, I was a bit startled,” Louis was out of words, “I admit, but he had his mouth around your dick. So sorry for being surprised, I guess.” he threw his hands up in the air, verbally defending himself.

“You were angry, you said some nasty things.” Harry opposed.

“You were being fucking loud and doing it in my living room. Sorry, I was tired, annoyed that you woke me up when I had to be up early that morning for work. How unheard of!”

“You are homophobic!” Harry repeated his mantra – a drowning man always clutched at his straw.

“What the hell, you know nothing about me?” Louis was marching towards his room.

“I know enough!”

“You know shit.” Louis bent down and pulled off one of his shoes and threw it at Harry.

“You just didn’t!” Harry exclaimed and rushed toward Louis to probably punch him.

Louis pulled off his sock as well, tripping over himself and falling down, “Do you see this?” he pointed at his triangle tattoo on his ankle.

Harry needed to bow down to see clearly what Louis was showing him.

“Yeah, oh indeed!” Louis emerged from the floor and slammed the door behind him as he shut himself in his bedroom.

After five minutes, he opened the door just to yell at Harry who was cleaning up his crafting stuff in silence. “Why the fuck did you even stay living here when you think such a horrible stuff about me? Huh? Why?” Louis didn’t wait for an answer before he slammed the door again with much greater force.

* 

Louis couldn’t fall asleep at night. He was incredibly upset after his argument with Harry. He lay on his stomach with his head into the pillow, wondering what he would do next – with himself, with Harry. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought that someone hated him. How could that happen? He was lovable, wasn’t he? He could understand that someone wasn’t particularly fond of his sense of humour, or the fact that he always said what he thought without thinking about it beforehand. He was never really great at biting his tongue. It was all the more surprising to him that someone had been suffocating themselves with negative feelings for so long. In fact, why did it even matter what Harry thought of him? Even though he and Harry haven’t been close friends, well they weren’t any kind of friends, it mattered to him.

Suddenly he felt so lonely, sadder than before he went out for drinks with Liam. He rolled from the bed, considering calling him. But it was late, and he wasn’t ready to relive Harry’s _Why-I-hate-you_ talk. He needed to calm himself down, so he curled up under the table. He put the pillow behind his back to make it comfier and wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, only his face was poking out. He used to do this when he was a little kid, it was his safe place, under the table, when his parents were arguing. For a while, he thought about the time before their divorce. Same feeling of loneliness ran through his body. He hugged his knees and rested his head on top of them. In the end, he somehow fell asleep.

In the morning he was awakened by the pain as he slightly moved his head. Sleeping in a sitting position under a table was probably not the best idea. Ouch. But he can go through the day just look to the left, right? The world seems to look nicer on the left side anyway. Shit. Ouch, ouch. Dressing up was an appreciation-worthy performance for Louis. Getting his head through the turtleneck tunnel was painful, but damn it, he always looks good in turtleneck and this was the last day before the gallery would shut down for Christmas holidays. A special occasion demands a notable outfit.

Over the last two years, Louis has created his own special gallery style. After all, if you want to succeed in the art world, you can’t go to work in a tracksuit – despite feeling comfortable, it’s not professional. Wearing a classic business attire seems professional but it screams money, so no one of the artist would take you seriously (because half of them are pretentious enough to say it’s only about the art and not money). To appear trustworthy for artists you need to... well, look like a “fuckable” hipster – that’s what Liam says. Louis says you need to know how to accessory and combine ordinary stuff with some bold designer pieces. The success lies in the details – like watch, belt or glasses (Louis doesn’t like to wear them though, because then he really feels like a cliché of a nerdy librarian from some adult movie).

For the last day before Christmas he dressed up in black turtleneck, oversized emerald green jumper and tight fitted pants in dark grey colour. He tiptoed from his bedroom to the hall. If he stays quiet and keeps noises to minimum, he could slip in his boots and leave for work without bumping into Harry. He was awake really early, so with a little luck... fuck, the pain... the coat rack, keys. Shit.

“Need any help?” Harry asked with his drowsy, husky voice as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

So no luck today. Louis couldn’t even turn his head in Harry’s direction as his neck was hurting and he was buried under the coats. He just managed to grab the keys, phone and some coat which was right beside him and with a string of quiet curses (that were meant just to help him to concentrate his inner strength to actually move his body) he chickened out of the flat without saying anything back to him.

In front of the apartment he realized that in the confusion and panic he had taken a coat that wasn’t his. Damn. He’s a mess. But it would probably be much more embarrassing to go back in now to get his own. So he put on Harry’s wool coat. It was a bit big on him, but it felt so comfy. Louis lifted the collar so that it would shield his stiff neck from the wind, and it was like slipping back into his duvet, it smelled so beautiful. He went to work.

Day in the gallery was lazy. At least Louis had a lot of time to try to arrange some last-minute massage. Unfortunately, he wasn’t successful. It was apparently impossible to get an appointment right before Christmas. Instead of massage he ended up buying all the over-the-counter painkillers they had in the pharmacy on the corner. During his self-pity party over his third cup of tea he even texted Liam who was already on his way to visit family.

**\-- _I-F_ – not so ideal in the end**

\-- How so?

**\-- Came home last night, got into stupid fight with him. He called me homophobic. Nothing major...**

\-- The fuck?

**\--Exactly!!!**

\-- It doesn’t make any sense

**\-- Well, remember how I caught him with his boyfriend?**

\-- No?

**\-- Well it was ages ago, second or third week after he moved in. I walked on them, they woke me up and apparently, I said some rude stuff. I can’t remember, was half asleep**

\-- Yikes, he broke rule number one

**\-- Rule?**

\-- Don’t ever wake him up or the fierce anger of Tommo would come upon you

**\-- Twat**

**\-- He hates me**

\-- The whole time?

**\-- Yes. He thinks I’m some homophobic arse**

\-- But you love arse. Ironic

**\-- Idiot**

\-- Did you talk to him about it?

**\-- If by talk you mean I lost my temper, threw a shoe at him, showed him my pride tattoo and then yelled a bit… then yes, we’ve talked**

\-- Shit. That must have been hilarious. I’m regretting I went home and not to yours

**\-- And I forgot – I stole his coat today and ran away**

\-- You stole his coat? Why?

**\-- By accident**

\-- Sure

**\-- He’s staying for Christmas! In the flat! I need to move away**

\-- It’s your flat. You can’t move, he can’t throw you out

**\-- I know he can’t, but how can I face him after this?**

\--Like any other adult?

**\--Gee, thanks**

\-- Don’t worry, Lou. It’s going to be fine. He always seemed like a good lad. Just tell him sorry, he’ll say sorry and you can enjoy Christmas together

**\-- Easy, peasy. Got it**

\-- Call me later about how it went

*****

At seven sharp, Louis locked the gallery. It was a chilly evening outside. It must have been close to zero because his breath was visible. The tip of his nose got cold really fast. But still, the city was full of people. Some of them were in a hurry to buy the last presents, others were wandering with hot drinks in their hands through the decorated streets with their friends, family or lovers, getting intoxicated by the Christmas atmosphere. And Louis... originally, he thought he would have to spend his birthday tomorrow and the following days all alone. How pathetic. But this was so much worse. Holidays with a flatmate who hated him. Terrifying. Tired from all the meds he has taken at work he decided to take a bus to save some energy for “facing Harry like an adult”. Liam would be proud of him.

After entering the flat, Louis took off his boots and hung the stolen coat back on the stand, which Harry put back to its place in the meanwhile. He exhaled audibly and mentally prepared himself for the awkwardness that would follow. There were noises coming from the kitchen, so he gathered his courage and followed the light and the sound of kitchen utensils.

“Hello,” he began cautiously, shyness in his voice.

Harry looked up from decorating some cookies. “Hello, Louis.”

And then there was silence. Louis just stood there stock-still. The longer it took him to say something the more uncomfortable it became. So he tried again. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“What exactly are you sorry for, Louis? For taking my coat today? Was it some petty punishment? I had to go to work in my light jacket, not great – let me tell you? Or are you sorry for yesterday, you did throw a shoe at me! Or maybe the yelling?”

“I didn’t mean to grab your coat. Trust me, just, I’ve hurt my neck and I can’t move properly and I didn’t see what I was taking and when I figured that it’s not mine it was too late –– you could have borrowed mine, you know.”

“I feel like if I comment on the freakishly small size of your clothes it would only make you more annoyed with my existence.” Harry answered, not even glancing at Louis as he continued working on the cookies with the piping bag. And he was right, it made Louis fidget a bit. He was smaller than Harry, but only by a little. Yet this wasn’t a time to be offended, so Louis decided to overlook it. 

“I’m not mad, nor annoyed by you. In fact, I always thought we were getting on well. How silly of me, really, because you hate me. You called me homophobic. Hence the yelling.”

“Listen, Louis. I didn’t hate you, just didn’t like you much and that might be probably a huge misunderstanding anyway. And I’m sorry for calling you that,” he shyly eyed at him. Louis was staring back at him. They were both a bit embarrassed and careful with their word so far. “I made dinner. Maybe, we could sit and talk?”

“You cooked me dinner?” Harry’s offer caught Louis off guard. He couldn’t believe that Harry would do something so nice after yesterday. 

“Well, yeah, for both of us, I finished early with my kids and I had the whole day and I think we should talk, or at least try. Because like it or not, we will spend Christmas together–”

“It’s kind of you. Let’s eat then.” Louis agreed, he was hungry.

“Ok. Good, good. I’m just going to put the cookies away and take out the roast from the oven.”

“Roast?”

“You eat meat, right?”

“I do, I can help you,” Louis opened the oven door and pulled out the baking dish but squealed aloud and almost dropped the whole meal on the floor. Luckily Harry stood nearby and saved them from eating dinner from the floor. 

“Hey, you ok, the glass is not that heavy?” Harry asked with concern in his voice.

“Shit, no– just, I’ve told you my neck is blocked. It was heavier than I anticipated.” 

Harry giggled.

“Really not that laughable.” Louis glared at him, offended, he was really in pain.

“Sorry, I just thought you had lied before.”

“You do think the worst about me, don’t you?” Louis sneered.

Harry’s smile faded away. He didn’t reply. The question was meant to be rhetorical anyway. Harry just plated the meal, then it was back to the awkward silence. Louis prepared the cutlery and the napkins, Harry opened the bottle of red wine and poured two glasses. They worked seamlessly in the silence like they’ve rehearsed it many times. 

Louis sat down behind the table and drank it in one go, it was the only way how he could survive this. 

“Ok.” Harry muttered as his eyes went wide and poured him another one. Harry sat on the other side, opposite to him. “Please, enjoy.”

“Thank you. You too,” Louis stuffed his mouth with a fork full of food. It was really delicious. “Mm, ’s good.”

“Thanks.”

After what seemed like an eternity Harry tried to make a small talk again. “You know, I could help you unblock your stiff muscles. I had this massage course–”

“That’s your way of getting a lad out of his clothes?” Louis raised his eyebrows in disbelief and turned it into the joke.

Harry’s cheeks blushed. He reached for the wine and sipped. After he slowly swallowed, he added, “If it was my line, it would be working, that you can count on.”

“Oh god, it took you this long to come up with this flipping-me-off answer?” he mocked him.

“Shut up. You make me nervous.”

“Why? Are you not used to facing your mortal enemy by now?” And that was an unnecessary low blow. So he washed down the malicious comment with the rest of his third glass. “How was it to live with me? You hated me, you thought the worst about me, yet you came home every day. Every day for over a year. You gave me fake polite smiles and went to sleep? Like nothing was going on? Weren’t you scared? Why didn’t you say anything? Enlighten me. I don’t get it.”

“I– I like the flat, a lot.”

“That’s the most idiotic answer ever.”

“Hey!”

“And your then-boyfriend, the pretty one, dark hair, sharp jawline– warm mouth…” Louis stood up, leaned across the table and listed his mean words directly to Harry’s shocked face. 

“Shut up.” Harry rose up from the chair as well. 

“Why didn’t he punch me for my rudeness when you obviously are not capable of it?”

“Shut it! I said shut the fuck up.” Harry was furious, gripping him by the collar of his turtleneck.

Louis was hissing with the pain, grinning like a mad man. “Let me go, you fight like a puppy,” Louis, being the drama queen he has always been, put special effort to say the syllables loud and clearly, popping both Ps, “like an adorable little puppy.” 

Harry wanted to really punch him this time. But blood started dripping from Louis’ nose. Well, not dripping but rather pouring… Harry immediately loosened his grip.

“What the hell,” Louis panicked, “you haven’t even touched me. Are you some fucking witch doctor?” Metallic tastefilled his mouth. He tried to stop it with his hands, but the blood was running down his chin, dropping on his clothes. Louis tilted his head backwards and almost passed out from the pain which shot into his back and head at the same time. “Fuck.” He gulped, blood everywhere.

“No, you need to lean your head forward.” Harry gently helped him reposition. “First, calm down, it will be ok, come, I’ll lead you. Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“For fuck sake, what the hell, this has never happened to me before. Shit, my clothes will be ruined.” Louis whined.

Harry quickly slid his hands below the two layers of Louis’ clothing up his torso and widened the collar enough to pull it over his head in one swift move without hurting Louis more. If Louis wasn’t covered in blood he would be really amazed by Harry’s smooth skills. He shivered, because he was suddenly quite cold without anything on.

“Shhh, don’t talk or you’ll drown.” Harry soaked a small towel in cold water, squeezed it lightly and pressed it over the bridge of Louis’ nose. “This should help to stop it. The cold should tighten the blood vessels–”

It took a few more minutes to stop it completely. He silently washed Louis’ face, Louis felt suddenly exposed under careful observation of Harry’s green eyes, wondering how it was possible that the same person who pissed him that much earlier was now so caring and tender towards him. Harry was focused, lips tightly pressed together as he cleaned him up. He was quite beautiful, mesmerizing. 

“Mmm, thank you, Harry, for taking care of it, taking care of me.” he said sheepishly. 

“You’ve doubted me, but I got you out of your clothes after all.” Harry smirked.

“You winked!” Louis exclaimed. 

“How much blood did you lose, man? Are you delirious?” Harry promptly denied any hints of flirting. “Are you feeling any better? You should probably sit down.” Harry pulled him back to the living room and let him sink on the couch. Then he disappeared in his room and came back with a tube of some oily cream and some t-shirt and throw blanket. 

“Would you please allow me to look at you back and neck?” 

“You can be so polite sometimes?” Louis said aloud and turned his back to him. “Okay then. Show me your skills.” 

“Did you take any painkillers today?” Harry asked.

“Haha, tons. I wouldn’t be able to move and go through day without them–”

“Hmm.” Harry hummed.

“What? What do you mean by hmm?”

“Just– you probably shouldn’t drink the wine then, and I made you angry and put that all together, it probably made your nose bleed,” he moved his hands towards his right shoulder, “I feel it here. Do you feel it?” he thumbed over the knot.

“Ouch, of course I feel it. Be careful!” 

“Roger that, princess, I know what I’m doing. Have some faith in me, please. I will loosen it a bit but you should keep yourself warm and rest.”

“Faith? If you haven’t noticed, there is not much trust between us right now.”

It took Harry a minute or two before he started talking again. “I didn’t say anything about it before because I don’t like arguing with people. And I’m not good at it, I’m not quick enough to silence my opponent right away. I always come up with a great argument to support my case a minute too late. And it stresses me out to discuss my sexuality with other people in general. I’m out, I’m not ashamed of who I am. Just–” 

“You should give yourself some credit. You scared me a bit today with your bloody voodoo trick.”

“It wasn’t my doing.” Harry defended himself. “I didn’t hit you. I’m never violent. Or I’ve never been before. I don’t know what came over to me today– and yesterday. I was not in the best mood and you triggered me and– – I’m not like this at all, you have to believe me. Here, I’m done, put the shirt on.” Louis obeyed and pulled Harry’s shirt over his head. It was big enough to not give him any trouble, it smelled good, a little different than his coat but it was soothing. 

They end up sitting next to each other on the couch. Louis looked him in the eyes and confessed something too. “You don’t like to argue and I don’t like when someone doesn’t like me. I don’t have to be adored but… hate? Do you really hate me? And for something so… important to me. It kinda threw me out of the saddle. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry, but I don’t even remember what exactly I’ve said to you and your boyfriend that day.”

“Ex. Zayn’s my ex.”

“You really broke up eight month ago? I feel bad that I haven’t noticed. Were you ok?”

“I’m fine now, it was– well, a break-up. You know those right? Never easy.”

“Right, it never is.”

“So, you really are– – you didn’t mind me dating Zayn at all?”

“Gay? Yeah, that I am. And I’m the last one who would mind you being in love with anybody, boys, girls, both, neither, it’s your choice to make, not mine.”

Harry was looking straight in his bright blue eyes, nodding. “I don’t really hate you, you know? Maybe, could we start over then? With each other I mean?”

“We should.” Louis smiled back at him.

Harry made him cup of tea, covered him with the blanket, he even stuffed some little pillows behind his back to make Louis comfortable. Harry sat himself on the opposite side of the couch, pulled his knees up and folded them to the side, ran his hand through his slightly curly hair. His smile was so sweet and maybe a little flirtatious. Louis has decided to give their potential friendship another shot.

Harry asked about Louis’ work. And oh boy! To encourage Louis to talk about the gallery was a sure way to hell – or that was what Liam always said. It was like pulling a sledge up a hill for a kid. It was Louis’ life, he really put great effort into that place and was able to give a hours long lecture about this topic. Yet Harry seemed genuinely interested in everything Louis was saying.

They found out that they actually shared an interest in art. In fact, Louis has great passion for it, he always had. But since he isn’t able to even draw a decent picture, he could never imagine a way to make it his living. But during his final year of his studies he accidentally came across this place owned by a woman named Helene. They got into talks during one opening. They clicked and she offered him a job. 

Over a year of working as her personal assistant Louis had learnt so much so when Helene decided to move abroad, she offered him the opportunity to run the whole place. It was a big deal, he was flattered. He had thought about running his own little gallery for some time and he was full of ideas and he loved it. But at the same time, he really wanted to put his time into a project of his own. Helene hesitated a bit but, in the end, she offered Louis to buy off a share of the gallery.

Louis had to take a second job to save enough money to get a loan. He worked himself nearly to death but finally, this October he managed to buy it. He was really proud of himself, but apart from Liam, he didn’t really have many people to share and celebrate with. For the last two years, he has sacrificed everything to his goal. And that sadly meant he fell out of a touch with a lot of his friends and apparently even with his family. But he is going to change that! 

“So you own it, you own the gallery?” Harry asked in excited disbelief, “that’s amazing! I thought you only work there. The place is incredible.”

“I just own a part of it. And how would you know, you’ve never been there.” Louis pointed out humbly.

“Actually– but don’t get mad and no fast moves, remember? – I know the place, I go there quite often.”

“What? I work there. I’ve never seen you there.”

“I go when you’re out of the city.” 

“You’re kidding me, right? You’ve despised me that much?” Louis shook his head and laughed, because it was ridiculous, Harry was just peculiar.

“I even bought a piece,” he admitted.

“Ha! And now I know you’re lying because I would have noticed your name in the records.” Louis outsmarted him, or he thought he did. Harry got up and from his bedroom he brought the painting and placed it on Louis’ lap.

“That’s–” Louis couldn’t believe his eyes, he adored this little painting so much.

“ _Greeengrass_ , I know, it’s mine.”

“But some woman has bought it, I remember _Greengrass_ very well because it was my second favourite by Sadie, you know the artist.”

“My friend made the payment to cover for me, she also picked it up after the exhibition has ended,” Harry revealed, clearly slightly embarrassed by his cowardness, “but that’s not important. Tell me which one was your favourite?”

“The blue one, about twice as big as _Greengrass_. It was hung second from the end on the right side.”

“Oh, I know, I know, the _Chasing the storm_?”

“Yeah that one, unbelievable that you remember.”

“I’m quite into art myself.”

“You don’t say, going behind my back and buying art from me.”

“Sorry for that. Really. You–“

“It’s ok, Harry. Don’t – don’t apologize again, we both have said sorry enough times.”

They stared into each other’s eyes. It was weird. Like they wanted to say something, but none of them did. Louis cleared his throat, just to clear the heavier air. “Here, Harry, hang your _Greengrass_ back.”

“Uhm, it’s not hung yet.”

“What? Why not? It’s magnificent, it should be up the wall.”

“I don’t have enough room– – in my room.”

“Nonsense,” Louis hopped off the couch, “I could help you decide where to put it, I have an eye for this kind of stuff and well a lot of experience with hanging,” he grinned.

Louis marched over to Harry’s bedroom but waited with painting in his hand for Harry to let him in. Harry opened the door and it was actually the first time Louis had a peek inside. There was absolutely no space for any art. The room wasn’t that small, in fact it was spacious, but all the walls were filled with bookshelves. Even above the neatly made bed there were books. Maybe beside the window… no, it would look terrible once the curtains would be open.

“I didn’t know there was an Oxford library within easy reach.” Louis commented.

Harry let out a loud bark of laughter. “It’s not that many books, really.”

“Enough so that you have nowhere to hang the picture.”

“It was meant for the dining area, originally.”

“That would be a great spot actually.” Louis agreed. “Why didn’t you hang it there then?”

“Because I was stupid?” Harry asked hesitantly. “Or maybe I didn’t want you to know that I have it. Because that would mean some kind of validation and it would undermine my strong opinion of you. My strongly misguided opinion that you are a terrible person.” 

“We need to get past that. I’m trying but you’re mentioning it like every five minutes.”

“Sorry.” Harry apologized.

“Stop it.” Louis warned him, scrunching his eyebrows together. 

“Ok, sorry.” Louis just rolled his eyes with amusement and returned the picture back to Harry’s hands and left the room, making himself comfortable on the couch again.

“More tea?” Harry offered as he made his way back.

“Sure, can I have some of your cookies as well?”

Harry objected, “But they are for Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas already, besides that, soon it will be my birthday so you can consider it a gift. And we can make some more cookies tomorrow if you want. If you don’t have other plans I meant.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Tomorrow. I know, it’s dumb but hey, it’s my own fault. It’s done, it’s not like I’m the only one born on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, I know someone who was born on Christmas Day.” Harry added.

“Really? Who?” Louis got all excited, since he thought that being born on 25th sounded even worse. 

“Jesus!” Harry said triumphantly. 

Louis cracked up with laughter. It was such a lame joke, but Harry made it sound very endearing. “You’re funny.”

Harry beamed with pride like Louis was the first person to tell him that. He allowed him to eat as many cookies Louis wanted. A bit after midnight, they were interrupted by a phone call. 

“Sorry, I need to take that. It’s my mum,” Louis excused himself from the couch. 

“It’s ok, take it, it’s late anyway.” Harry encouraged him. 

“She always calls to wish me happy birthday.” Louis explained. 

“Talk tomorrow then?” Harry prolonged his eye contact.

“Tomorrow, I’m all yours. And thanks for saving my life today, my mum would be actually sad if I had bled to death.” He smiled and took his phone call to his bedroom. 

*

In the morning Harry offered that they could head out together for some birthday breakfast and later they could buy some nails to hang _Greengrass_ in their dining area so they could both enjoy it. Louis was excited. He said yes to breakfast and suggested that they should actually make a stop at the gallery because Louis had plenty of stuff for hanging the art they could borrow there. And he wanted to show Harry his favourite place in the world properly. 

It sounded like a solid plan. 

The gallery was empty since it was closed to the public. It was only them, wandering through. Louis was telling stories about obscure artists and crazy openings. Harry seemed to really enjoy Louis’ _guided tour_ but his phone was buzzing all day. Louis was distracted by how tensed Harry became every time his phone went off. He didn’t pick it once. The fourth time it happened Louis couldn’t resist and asked him about it.

“It’s my mum, or my sister again.” Harry admitted reluctantly, ashamed that he didn’t answer the phone to his own family. 

“You can answer it, I don’t mind.” Louis assured him with a grin.

“But they are calling to ask why I haven’t come home for Christmas. And I don’t know what to tell them.”

Louis struggled with the right words, not wanting to offend him, “Why though? Why didn’t you go home? I’ve thought you got stuck in some limbo like me. You know, family assumes you won’t come so they are away… but all these phone calls seem like they want you there and you don’t care enough to answer the phone?” 

“I care,” he squeaked out.

“Sorry, I know you care and I know you want to go. So why haven’t you?” he asked sincerely again. 

“You can’t know if I want to go…” Harry protested.

Louis went all Sherlock on him, “I know, you have awfully lots of gifts wrapped and prepared to be given in your bedroom. I saw it last night. If you didn’t plan to go home for a visit you would have sent them a long time ago. But you didn’t. They are there so you probably still consider going. You can go, you have nothing to do. No one to be with.”

“I have you?” Harry tried.

“You hated me till yesterday.” Louis deadpanned.

“I haven’t told them about Zayn,” he revealed.

“Oh. So what. Tell them now over the phone. Tell them once you’re there. No biggie.”

“They love him. They won’t understand.”

“Harry,” he exclaimed, “that’s crap. Even if they love you more than some bloke you used to date. Why haven’t you told them? 

“I don’t, I can’t talk about it.” Harry squirmed.

“You don’t have to share, not with me, but have you talked about your break-up with anyone?” 

“No, not much, one of my friends knows. And you.”

“Oh, you’ve said it was eight month ago. Right?” Louis tried to make sure that he got it right, “that’s a long time. Harry, it’s not healthy to pile things up in you. Look how it worked with us, we could have sorted our shit ages ago, but you haven’t told me. These things just don’t disappear only because you don’t want to deal with them.”

“It was mainly my fault, ok. My fault that we’ve broken up. And I don’t want to explain to my mum what went down.” Harry sounded defeated. He was nervous, not knowing what to do with his hands. 

Louis wasn’t there to judge him, “Just tell her, it wasn’t the best for you anymore and that you will tell her once you are ready.” 

“You make it sound so easy but –” he sighed. 

“No buts, there is still plenty of time to buy a train ticket and go.” he tried to persuade him.

“No, it’s too late. Tickets are sold out.” 

“So, you’ve checked after all.” Louis grinned.

“Last night when your mum called, I got a bit homesick.”

“There are other ways. You can go by car.” Louis offered. He had an answer for everything.

“I don’t have a car and I don’t want you to spend your birthday alone.”

“You don’t have to stay for me, really, I’ll be ok, I have some experience in spending Christmas on my own. Because that’s what you get if you don’t speak much to your family and you kinda neglect them for your own selfish goals – like I did. I have my gallery, but my family is skiing in France now – without me. Because I didn’t tell them anything, well anything important about my life. You want to go. They want you to come. So where is the problem?”

“I know I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, maybe you’re being silly.”

“That’s literally the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Louis quickly silenced him and pulled him into a hug. Louis placed his arms softly around his waist, rubbing his back soothingly to reassure him that everything will be okay. Maybe it was a bit bold and too intimate of him, but Harry leaned into the hold, putting his arms around his shoulders and immediately relaxed. 

Harry let go and straightened his shirt, “Thank you, I needed that.”

“No problem, really.” Louis smiled at him, fondness in eyes, really satisfied that he managed to make him feel better. “Here’s an idea, I’ll make you tea or coffee, and then show you the rest and my fave painting in this exhibit, it’s on the left side.”

“Cool. Sounds great.” Harry agreed. 

Louis consciously allowed Harry to move around the gallery with a hot drink in his hand. He wasn’t ever that benevolent. The only beverage that anyone could walk around the art with was wine, and that only during the openings. Even then Louis was usually pretty nervous about accidents that might happen. 

He asked Harry about his studies and work with kids, safe questions since he knew Harry wasn’t ready to open up about the break-up and he wanted to take off his mind that he isn’t with his family. And Harry gladly took the bait. His eyes were as wide as his smile while he was describing the usual day with his first graders.

Louis watched Harry’s dimples appear and disappear on his cheeks. So funny and adorable. Beaming Harry was so different from the troubled one he witnessed earlier, or the furious, angry puppy one from two days ago. Louis suddenly felt the need to make him happy. So when they later sat in a restaurant two shops down the gallery for lunch and Harry excused himself to go to the loo, he searched the internet for some kind of car sharing service. It was easier than he thought. Two minutes later, he was signed up and the car booked for tomorrow morning (only because there were no free cars today). 

Now he was just waiting for the right moment to tell Harry that he would be home for Christmas. 

He didn’t have to wait too long. Harry’s mood went south before then finished their lunch.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Your sister again?” Louis asked with concern.

Harry continued to stare on the screen, “No, it’s Zayn,” he gulped, “my sister, she called him– Shit.”

“Did he answer?”

“I hope not. Sorry, I need to call him back,” he quickly excused himself from the table. 

_Maybe you should call your sister instead_ – Louis thought to himself as he turned to watch Harry leave the restaurant to make the call. He wondered if he wasn’t too straightforward with his idea to drive Harry home. Obviously, Harry had quite a strange way and pace of dealing with things. In Louis’ mind – it all had an easy solution – Harry goes home, says Zayn is no longer his boyfriend and spends Christmas with his mum and sister. 

But he didn’t know Harry that well, maybe not at all. He really didn’t understand what was holding him back. And it was not his place to meddle into this mess. It was Harry’s mess and maybe he should let him do what he wanted, no one asked for his help. 

Harry came back and collapsed on his chair, “They know!” he whined.

Louis stayed quiet. 

“He picked up, thought she wanted to wish him merry Christmas. Long story short, now they know. They know that I haven’t told them for so long. This is a disaster. Fuck my life.” Harry rested his forehead on the table. 

“Hey, Harry, none of that. There’s nothing wrong with your life. Look at you, you’re doing fine. At least it’s out, one thing less to worry about.”

“You don’t understand.”

“So help me, I’m confused. I see no problem at all.”

Harry blinked and sighed, “What should I do?”

“Give me your phone, Harry,” he held out his hand and Harry obeyed. Louis opened the messages with Harry’s sister, he didn’t have to scroll to see they were worried about him. So he typed out simple text and handed the phone back.

Harry read aloud: “I’m ok, just busy. Don’t worry. I’ll be home for lunch tomorrow. Love you.”

“I’ll drive you, tomorrow morning. You’re going. Now let’s go home and bake some cookies. One step at a time.” Louis said before Harry could protest. 

Along the way, they mingled with people at the Christmas fair. Louis discovered a beautiful glass ornament at one of the stalls that looked like a snowflake. He lamented that it would probably not snow again this year. Louis insisted he didn’t want the snowflake because it really wasn’t the cheapest, but Harry decided to buy it for him anyway. He found it really pretty and it was hand made so the price was understandable. And it was Louis’ birthday after all. They bought more mulled wine and over-sweetened pastries, which lasted them all the way back to their shared flat.

They had a lot of fun together that afternoon. Louis hung _Greengrass_ like the pro he was, meanwhile, Harry prepared the batter to replace the cookies they ate yesterday. Baking went smoothly, it was way easier than Louis would have expected. They decorated some of them. Louis made Harry prepare one large tin box with them to bring home.

“You’ll really drive me up there tomorrow?” he asked again.

“Sure thing, I’ve already promised, haven’t I?” he smiled.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Harry wondered.

Louis giggled, “First of all, I am just a nice person. Maybe I haven’t made the best first impression back then. But I am a good lad. You can call some of my friends, they’ll tell you, I’m not boasting,” he insisted, boasting of course, “second, you seem like a good lad too,” Louis continued, “third, I have nothing better to do, Christmas is about good deeds, right?” Harry hung on his lips, watched him closely. The unexpected attention threw Louis off a bit. “Third, no, fourth, the fourth reason – it would be really silly – you not going. As I see it, there is no true obstacle for you to not spend your Christmas like a real mama boy.”

“I think you’re the real mama boy here,” Harry stated and, well, he was not wrong, “you say, you don’t mind staying here alone for Christmas, but yesterday you waited till midnight even though you didn’t feel well, just in case your mum would call you like she used to.”

“Well, she’s my mum.” Louis blushed. 

“It was really cute, really. So how is it that they went to France without you?”

Louis hesitated, “You know, reasons...” 

“I bet they are just as stupid as mine were.”

“Maybe,” he laughed. 

“Do tell, I don’t want to be the only fool around here.”

“Well, past two years – I was focused on the gallery only. When I told my family, I wanted my own gallery, in London, they told me, I was crazy, I couldn’t do it and blah, blah– – They didn’t say it to discourage me, I think. They just didn’t want me to dive into anything so uncertain and watch me fail or be heartbroken over it. But –– I can be a bit stubborn. Sometimes.”

Harry nodded, smiling, “Yeah, I’ve noticed that and I’ve only known you for two days.”

“I set my mind and devoted all to my work. I got a second job to save as much money as possible. Well, that’s the reason you’re living here. I stopped going home for a visit, I had no time for that, I just worked and…”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Harry touched him.

“Nah, it’s ok, I just, you’ve said I was focused on myself when we had our first fight,” Louis scoffed with amusement, “our first fight, it sounds like we’re married. Anyway, you were kinda right. Even my friend Liam told me several times I needed to find something other than my get-the-gallery mania because what I would do once I got it. And I thought– once I get it, I’ll go home and show them I did it – that was the plan. But they just didn’t wait this time until I refused to come – again – because of the gallery. So they are in France. And I am wondering if they would even want to come to see my gallery sometimes. Because I got a feeling they hate the place already.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ve already told you the place is amazing. It might be yours just for a few months but you run it for I don’t know how long… and you did great. And it makes you happy. Of course, they’d come to see you in your natural habitat.”

Louis laughed. But inside, he hated how insecure he felt about his family’s approval. Deep down he knew that everything is alright between them. They will be excited and happy for him. It was that he was disappointed by himself, by not handling it better. He put everything on hold. His friends, his family, his love life. His sex life was in slightly better state, but really not that amazing either. He hasn’t even noticed that his _ideal_ flatmate hated him all along. At least now it seemed his relationship with Harry was on the right track.

They enjoyed late dinner and spent the evening watching _Love Actually_. Well, Harry watched, Louis was just dissing the unrealistic plot. Especially the card scene. “What the fuck? Her husband, his best friend, is inside and what is he trying to prove? It’s far from romantic. The guy has no respect. Like hello?!? This would never happen in real life.”

“Well, it’s a movie. You don’t have to be all worked up about it.” Harry apparently found it very entertaining how it could draw out such a strong reaction out of Louis. It was obvious that Louis couldn’t ruin this movie for Harry even if he tried harder.

Still, Louis remained very adamant about all the clichés, creepiness and lack of dramatic tension where there was supposed to be some. According to Louis, shallow characters made into caricatures weren’t enough for this movie to become a Christmas classic. He admitted there were some funny parts and laughed through them with Harry. But Joni Mitchell could make anyone cry. And that particular scene was simply heart-breaking so Harry just nudged glassy-eyed Louis into the ribs.

“Shut up,” Louis uttered through his teeth.

“I said nothing,” Harry giggled.

“Well, don’t.” 

“Louis?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad you pushed me to go home.”

“I didn’t, you wanted to before I offered to drive you.”

“I– I just miss them a lot. I don’t know why I’ve thought not going home was even an option, but on the other hand, I am glad I stayed here with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, if I didn’t plan to barricade myself here, we wouldn’t get into our fight and I wouldn’t find out that you are this sweet person.”

“I’m not sweet.” Louis opposed, blushing.

“You are. Like a candy,” he closed his eyes, “or like honey.” Harry added dreamily.

“You’re embarrassing,” he lightly punched Harry’s shoulder, but in fact, it was probably Louis who was flustering.

“No, I mean it. I misjudged you. A lot. You are a good lad. And I think we could be really good friends, don’t you think? Today, it was great, I really had a great time. You distracted me from being homesick.”

“I’m glad.”

“I hope,” it took Harry a while to formulate his thoughts, “it’s your birthday and I know you spoke with your fam over the phone. But, um… I hope you aren’t sad or homesick too much, that you had a good time with me as well.”

“I did. I’m a big boy – a year older now, I can manage,” he said, “but you definitely made my birthday a lot happier.”

Harry grinned. It was a genuine, big smile, the one when your eyes shine and your cheeks hurt. And his dimples! Louis stared at him maybe for too long.

“We should go to bed before we start hugging!” he joked.

“But I’m a hugger, come here.” Harry pulled Louis into a quick but warm hug. “Thank you, Lou.”

“Don’t mention it. Sleep well, Harry. See you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah, good night.” Harry said and went to his room. 

Louis shuddered. What it was with him – blushing like some young boy over a few compliments. Harry was just being friendly. It was quite inappropriate to think otherwise. Louis thought about what was suddenly that appealing about Harry. It was probably how genuine he was. Louis obviously noticed before that Harry was gorgeous, but he always thought he was dating that Zayn guy. He brushed it off and went to the bathroom to get himself ready to bed. 

Before switching the light off he hung his brand new snowflake from Harry on an abandoned nail in the wall he used as a spot where he sometimes hooked his headphones. He fell asleep really fast that night, he was worn out from the drama of the day. 

*

At eight in the morning, they were both ready to go. Harry packed a small backpack with his personal stuff, in his hands he had a large bag with presents and a big box full of Christmas cookies. He was excited.

Louis was only equipped with his mobile phone, where he searched in the app where exactly their car should be parked. It was wet outside, the cold wind creeped uncomfortably under his coat. Louis wished he could have _borrowed_ Harry’s coat again. He would feel much warmer.

However, after a while, they found the car, put Harry’s presents and coats in the back seats. Louis was actually looking forward to driving. He always fancied a nice ride in the car, and the idea of a few hours spent with Harry put him in a good mood despite the fact that it was early and he only had a cup of coffee.

The journey went pleasantly. They listened to some music, discussing different genres and concerts they have been to. They had so much in common, it was striking. They lived side by side in one flat for so long, and they had no idea that they both had a similar taste in music, both enjoyed art. Louis was amazed at how it was possible that he considered Harry an ideal flatmate for all the wrong reasons.

The closer they got to the destination, the more uncomfortable Harry became.

“You’re stressed.” Louis glanced at Harry for a moment and then he set his eyes again on the road. He touched Harry’s hand to still at least one of them as he subconsciously brushed his thighs. 

“And you’re observant.” Harry nervously looked away.

“Don’t try to play it cool, I can see something’s bothering you.”

“It’s the talk.”

“The talk?” Louis played dumb.

“The talk with my family about the break-up and reasons I haven’t told them, reasons I haven’t come home earlier for Christmas… you know, the necessary and uncomfortable talk.”

“I see. The necessary talk.” He nodded to let Harry know he understands. “You can practise on me, if you want,” Louis offered before he could think it through, “we have about an hour before we get there. We are in the car, I’m all yours.”

“It’s not that interesting, just stupid.”

“I don’t mind. I’m not here to judge. I won’t even look at you if you’d prefer that, since you know, I’m driving and all this.”

“Okay,” Harry fidgeted, “that could work.” 

Louis secretly watched him as Harry played with his sleeves. “Well, I’m going to ask then– why haven’t you told them that you and Zayn broke up? Do you think you will get back together? Are you still in love?”

Harry scoffed, “No. No. We’re not. I’m not. I probably wasn’t in love for quite some time when we were still together.” Louis just listened and minded the road, so Harry continued. 

“We were dating for a little over four years. After the first six months, it became a long-distance relationship, you know. He studied here in London. I was in Cardiff. But we did well. When I got my degree I moved here, partly because of him. And it got a bit weird. I thought he would suggest we would live together. But he had a flat with his friends and was cool with it.”

“Did you tell him how you felt?”

“Not exactly. I guess I didn’t want to pressure him if he wasn’t ready. Well, originally, I had rented this one place. It was before I moved to your flat and it was disastrous. The girl, she was– she seemed nice, but she just never stopped talking. She talked all the time. And it wasn’t even interesting. I feel I’ll get a migraine just talking about her.”

“Then don’t, Harry. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” He assured him with a light grin.

“I was quite unhappy with my living situation and Zayn, he let me search a new flat. I was hurt, that he didn’t even consider us living together. Because I wanted to, I was thinking about our future a lot, if he maybe wanted to have kids one day… you know, the big picture. Not right away, of course. But the only thing he ever said to this topic was that we were lucky that we couldn’t have a baby. That he was glad I could play with kids for work and we would always have the freedom of a childless couple to do whatever we wanted.”

“Ouch. That’s a bit–,” Louis was weighing up the ways how to politely say it was bullshit, “insensitive?” 

“Hmm. Yeah, you are probably right. We haven’t talked about it seriously. I’ve never brought it up again.”

“The fact that someone is gay doesn’t indicate that there is no family for them in the future.” Louis tried to keep emotions in check. But what he had just heard was pure nonsense. It wasn’t 1950 anymore. He, for example, always wanted kids. He was from the big family, grew up amongst kids. So why not? Well obviously, it isn’t easy for people like them, but it’s not weird, uncommon or impossible. 

“I know. But some people want kids, some don’t. And this wasn’t even the biggest issue we had. I just slowly stopped thinking about us, about our future. Then he started to hang out with people from his new job. He used to spend the day with them at work and they went to a pub afterwards together. I got a bit jealous, mostly about nothing. I didn’t have much in common with them so wanted to do different stuff, alone or with my friends. We had some disagreements over it.”

“You mean you argued?” Louis asked.

“No, not much actually. I tried to avoid it. I told you I’m not good at it. But it was tiring. I wasn’t happy, he wasn’t happy. We just grew apart. But we were together for so long– –”

“Harry, I think you should talk more about things you care about with... well, with probably everybody. Usually, people can’t read minds. When you say how you feel and what you want, it doesn’t have to end with an argument, you know. But you told me he broke up with you, so what happened? So far it seems you wanted different things, so it went its natural course.” Louis wondered.

“I– I almost cheated on him,” Harry confessed, “I went for some drinks and there was this one guy, hitting on me. And it felt great to be wanted, I guess. I flirted back to see if it could lead somewhere. He kissed me.”

“And?” Louis encouraged him to go on since he could see that this was probably the breaking point. 

“And nothing,” Harry sighed. “That’s it. It was lust, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could – you know what I mean?”

“Of course I know what you mean, wasn’t born yesterday…” Louis had to laugh at Harry’s need to set the record straight.

“But it was wrong, so I didn’t do it. I had my relationship with Zayn. I was sweating for two days, feeling like crap for what happened so I confessed.”

“What did he say?” 

“Nothing much. That he was glad I didn’t do it and that he knew I’m a good person. But he broke up with me anyway. It was so calm. Really odd. To me it seems like it was just an opportunity to end it between us. He probably wanted to do it regardless of that kiss. I don’t know. But I felt relieved.”

“Relieved?” Louis repeated.

“I know it’s weird to say, but I’m glad he did it. I probably wouldn’t have the balls to walk out on him. We are still in touch. Beer mates and all that. We went through a lot together and ended it on good terms so it’s only logical that we remained friends.” 

Louis couldn’t hold back his astonishment, “Wow. If you both felt this way you made the right decision. But still, why didn’t you tell anyone? I don’t get it.”

Harry sighed, “You’ll think I’m stupid. It’s complicated. When I came out to my family– they were really supportive, but my mum, she was a bit worried about me. That it’s hard enough on my own and that me being gay won’t be easy.”

“Like you can choose,” Louis scoffed, “sorry, I’m not saying anything. Mute.” He gestured zipping his lips to let him continue.

“She didn’t mean it that way, she said it out of love. She is the sweetest. Wait till you meet her,” Harry couldn’t hide his fondness, “she was scared if I could find someone nice who would treat me well. So when I started dating Zayn, she calmed down. Everyone loved him, they thought that we would stay together, always telling us how we were perfect to each other. When we broke up, I thought, I would wait a bit… get myself back in the game and once there would be someone new in the picture, I would tell her so she would see I’m okay – not dying alone and stuff.”

“And there is no one new in the picture?”

“No.” Harry’s face fell, admitting this wasn’t easy for him. “I haven’t met anyone slightly interesting in eight months.”

“But that doesn’t mean anything.” Louis assured him. “I haven’t been on a proper date–,” it took him awhile to do the math, “–in a year or maybe even more… and I’m doing more than ok.”

“I’ve been on two dates, with two different guys,” he made it clear.

Louis gave him a puzzled look, “You want to mock me or what, Harry?” 

“God, no. Just, I’ve tried but I’m not ever doing blind date again. It’s not for me. But I’m– now it’s me who is worried if I ever meet someone. And I’m not ready to have this conversation with mum, with myself. Because I will freak out all on my own and I don’t need her worrying about it too. Then it will stress me out even more. A vicious circle.”

“Hmm.” Louis nodded. He didn’t understand Harry’s fear any better because… hello?!? Did Harry ever look in the mirror? He was also very smart, kind and interesting. But if it made him this anxious then It was the real thing and he wouldn’t want to make fun of it. And telling him that he was a fool to think that there weren’t lines of dudes waiting to be noticed by a gorgeous man like him – well that seemed like a great example of bad, desperate flirting.

“You’ll figure it out. Don’t worry, darling.” Oii, his eyes widened, the pet named slipped out of his mouth like nothing. He didn’t dare to check Harry’s reaction. 

Louis pulled over at the next petrol station. Refills were needed, both for them and the car. Louis bought them some coffee and sandwiches and for Harry also a pack of gummy bears. It was really easy to pull a dimpled smile out of Harry. In a half an hour they should be at Harry’s mother’s house. Candy and silly chit chat about the accent of the salesperson at the counter were great distractions. Harry seemed to finally relax a bit.

Once Louis stopped at their destination, Harry’s anxiety kicked in again. 

“So, we’re here.” He stated the obvious.

“Nice house.” Louis tried some small talk to avoid awkward silence.

“Thanks, my mum cares a lot about the garden, it’s her pride.”

“Beautiful. Do you want me to help you with your baggage?”

“No, it’s ok.” He said and hesitantly got out of the car. 

Louis got out of the car anyway and helped him get his things out. Harry stood with his back to the house, a backpack on his back, presents in his hands.

“Thank you again, Lou, for making me go, for driving me. For the pep talk.” He exhaled, preparing himself for what was ahead of him.

“Ah, don’t mention it. Anytime.” Louis smiled at him. He noticed someone was watching them from the window, hiding behind the lacy curtains.

“Don’t you wanna come inside?”

“Nah, I’ll pass, the purpose of this trip was that you will spend Christmas with your family. Not that you’ll bring home some intruder.”

“You’re not. You’re Lou, they’d love to get to know you. And I’m a chicken. Please, come inside with me.”

“You can do it, Harry. I believe in you.” Louis was certain that there were two figures behind the window now, watching them. They probably thought that Louis was Harry’s boyfriend. Or maybe not. But Louis always speaks before he thinks and he also acts before he could think of any consequences. He leaned over the cookies box Harry was holding and kissed him on the lips. 

And wow, Harry’s lips were so soft. He ran his hands through his curls, closed his eyes and kissed him again. Slowly, tenderly. Harry parted his lips and licked back in Louis’ mouth. It felt so good, tingling in the stomach, maybe little fireworks as well. Harry tasted like gummy bears and like... Harry, he was indeed something special. 

When Louis realized what he was doing. He stepped back, his eyes left Harry and focused on the window instead. It was so obvious that it made Harry turn around to see how the curtain moved. Shit.

Harry was petrified.

“I think your mum won’t worry about you being alone, anymore.” He chuckled to mask his own jitters, he was a bundle of nerves. 

“I spent eight months thinking about how to tell my mum…”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Louis whispered. “I don’t know why I did it. It just… but now, at least they won’t ask you about Zayn, I’m sure.”

“But they will ask about you.” Harry panicked.

“You can tell them whatever you want. Make it up. That you spent my birthday with me, that’s why you are late, that you didn’t know what to tell them since you don’t know what it is exactly between us.”

“But that’s not a lie,” Harry whined.

“See, you won’t be even lying,” Louis’ heart was beating so fast, “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s kinda shame you didn’t, though.”

“What?” Louis asked in shock.

“It was a good kiss, you know.”

“Wasn’t it awkward? I haven’t asked…”

“Awkward only because I have my hands full and I couldn’t give it my best.” Harry admitted.

“It was best enough for me.” They both laughed. The nervousness between them was almost palpable.

“Then you don’t know what you have set yourself up to.” Harry smiled, his dimples made Louis week in the knees.

Louis shivered. It wasn’t often that he was left speechless. Harry placed the tin box on the roof of the car, the bag with presents slid to the ground. “Are they still looking?” he asked.

Louis peaked behind Harry’s shoulder, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Good. That’s good,” he said and pressed Louis’ back against the car, snogging him senseless. Louis couldn’t do more than to give in.

“I need to go. My mum’s waiting.” Harry said, grabbed the gifts and marched towards the front door. Louis just watched him entering the house and when the door shut, he was able to move again. 

He got in the car, put his phone to the hands-free holder and dialed Liam’s number.

“Merry Christmas, Lou, how are you doing? Everything alright? I thought I’d have to send a search party when I haven’t heard from you.”

“I kissed him!” 

“Who?”

“ _I-F_ , Harry. I just fucking smooched him while his mother and sister watched us through the window.”

“What?” Liam burst into hysterical laughter. 

“Fucking god. What did I do?” 

“You snogged a person who hates you in front of his family? I’d call it ultimate revenge. How did that happen?” He giggled.

“We don’t hate each other anymore.” There was a loud knock on the car window. “Oh, please shut up now!”

Louis pulled down the car window, “Hi Harry, you forgot something?” 

“Yep, the cookie box, I left it on the roof. Who were you talking to?” 

“No one,” Louis quickly realized that it was clear he was lying, “Siri?” His second lie wasn’t any better. 

But Harry just popped his dimples and said, “I could ask your Siri then if you are free next week so I could take you on the date.”

“I’m free,” Louis blurted before his _Siri_ would ruin the moment.

“That’s good. I’ll call you. Merry Christmas, Louis.” Harry waved at him and hurried back to the house. 

“Louis?” Liam said after a while. “Still there? Breathing?”

“You’re never letting this go, are you?” he gushed and started the car.

“Not a chance! Drive safe, Louis,” Liam reminded him. 

“I’ll call you once I get home.”

“And Lou?”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe Harry’s ideal after all.”

END

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Read other fabulous fics from this [collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1dchristmasfest2020).  
> Leave kudos or a comment if you've liked it. 
> 
> Original prompt: Roommates who don’t particularly vibe well with each other are forced to stay in their apartment for the holidays and end up actually getting to know each other when they both get homesick on Christmas Eve. They realize that they actually get along a lot better than they thought. (Bonus points if this is Zarry)
> 
> So, sorry, I didn't make it 'Zarry'.
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Larry_you_know) or on [Tumblr](https://larryyouknow.tumblr.com). You can reblog my fic post [here](https://anna-larryyouknow.tumblr.com/post/636786498894741504/the-ideal-flatmate).


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